Pei Qingyu’s illness had caused him to miss a significant amount of school. As for Yu Tingzheng, he had only attended a single day of classes and remained practically illiterate. Upon returning to the academy and hearing that the annual examinations were approaching, he immediately fell into a panic.
“Yu… Yu’er, the exams are coming. What, what do we do?”
Pei Qingyu was busy reading and, finding him noisy, raised a hand to gently push the boy’s head away. “It’s just an annual exam. What is there to worry about?”
With his cheek resting against Pei Qingyu’s palm, Yu Tingzheng stammered, “But… I… I can’t read. How… how can I take the exam?”
“Then don’t take it,” Pei Qingyu said. “It’s a mere annual exam; it makes no difference whether you take it or not.”
“Is it, really okay not to?” Yu Tingzheng blinked his eyes wide. “But… the teacher said… only those who pass… can enter Canglang Hall.”
Pei Qingyu pinched the boy’s cheek. “You want to go to Canglang Hall?”
The academy was divided into two halls: Mingjin Hall, which taught the foundations of the Six Arts, and Canglang Hall, the advanced level. Students could only enter the latter after passing the annual examination.
If anyone else heard a student who had only attended one day of school talking about passing the exams, they would have laughed at his delusions. However, Pei Qingyu didn’t take the exams or the halls seriously at all. Lacking Yu Tingzheng’s anxiety, he didn’t see anything wrong with the boy’s ambition.
Yu Tingzheng gave a shy smile. “Yu’er, is amazing. You will surely enter Canglang Hall. I want to be with Yu’er.”
Hearing this, Pei Qingyu’s hand flinched as if burned. He pulled back abruptly, his fingers curling nervously with nowhere to go, finally burying them haphazardly beneath his sleeve.
Yu Tingzheng was dazed for a moment. Then, blinking, he suddenly remembered the words from yesterday.
Oh no. Without realizing it, he had touched Pei Qingyu again.
Seeing his deeply apologetic expression, Pei Qingyu gave a light huff. “It would be better to focus your mind on your books rather than worrying blindly over this.”
Then, fearing the boy wouldn’t understand, he added sternly, “Don’t harbor thoughts you shouldn’t have.”
Yu Tingzheng understood and felt a bit sad. “Mingjin Hall… and Canglang Hall… aren’t far apart. In my free time… I will go… find Yu’er.”
He really shouldn’t have dreamed of entering Canglang Hall. Even Yu Chengfeng had been in school for years and was still stuck in Mingjin Hall; he was clearly overestimating himself. Yet, the thought that he wouldn’t be able to attend classes alongside Pei Qingyu in the future made it impossible for him to feel happy.
Pei Qingyu caught several glances of the boy looking wilted. He struggled internally, he wanted to soften his tone and be kind, but he found it incredibly difficult to resist his own defensive nature.
As he went back and forth in his mind, half the day slipped away without him turning a single page of his book. He began to think spitefully: That fortune teller was nothing but a charlatan for finding me such a nuisance.
It was now the hour of the Wei (1:00 PM – 3:00 PM). The teacher had not yet arrived, and the classroom was in an uproar. Several youths huddled together, discussing which village girls were the prettiest, gentlest, and most virtuous the perfect candidates for wives. They even invited each other to go take a look after school let out.
Most of the students in the hall were fifteen or sixteen years old, reaching the age for marriage. Since girls were scarce in the village, the mere sight of one was enough to make their hearts race and their blood boil.
Amidst the clamor, someone suddenly shouted at the top of their lungs: “Zijing, come with us!”
The youth named Wei Zijing was the second legitimate son of a wealthy local gentry family in Yanti Village. He was exceptionally arrogant and domineering; no one in the academy dared to cross him, and even the village chief’s chubby son feared him. Due to his status, he was always surrounded by sycophants willing to follow him anywhere.
Hearing the invitation, the youth called out in response. He didn’t even bother waiting for school to end; he decided to skip the afternoon lessons entirely, deftly vaulting out the window to join his friends in high spirits.
However, just as he landed and prepared to climb over the academy wall, a refined figure appeared.
“Zijing,” said the man. It was none other than Su Chenyan, the teacher who could actually keep him in line. “Where do you think you are going?”
Wei Zijing skidded to a halt. The classmates behind him who were about to jump out the window scrambled to duck down, hiding from the teacher’s sight. They whispered frantically, “We’re doomed! The teacher is here!”
The classroom suddenly fell so silent that a pin drop could be heard.
Yu Tingzheng lifted his head from his book and looked around, bewildered. A hand pressed down on the back of his head, and a cool voice came from beside him: “Keep reading.”
Pei Qingyu didn’t even look at him, thinking the boy was far too easily distracted. How could he learn anything if every little thing caught his eye?
Yu Tingzheng let out a soft “oh” and obediently lowered his head. Suddenly, his collar was yanked back, pulling his face away from the paper. As he looked back in confusion, he felt something hard press against the small of his back. Catching a glimpse of Pei Qingyu holding a book against his spine to guide his posture, he heard him say: “Straighten your back. Sit properly.”
Yu Tingzheng instinctively sat up straight, his slender waist arching forward slightly.
Pei Qingyu withdrew the book but yanked the boy’s collar back a bit further. “In the future, keep your distance while reading. Being too close is bad for your eyes.”
Yu Tingzheng didn’t understand why, but since Pei Qingyu said it, it had to be right. He obediently followed the instruction.
After a round of excuses, Wei Zijing was eventually caught and dragged back. He sat down in the classroom, glaring venomously at Su Chenyan. The surrounding classmates lowered their heads, not daring to make a sound.
The youth was arrogant, but he still harbored a basic fear of the teacher and ultimately accepted his punishment.
When school finally let out, those same classmates crowded around Wei Zijing, offering to help him with his writing lines. Since there were many of them, they could finish the task quickly if everyone took a few pages.
But Wei Zijing was still seething. These people had abandoned him the moment they saw Su Chenyan; he knew exactly what they were up to now hypocrisy.
His expression was cold enough to freeze a fly. As he passed Yu Tingzheng and heard the boy’s stuttering speech, his irritation peaked. He raised his foot to kick him, but before he could make contact, he was intercepted.
Pei Qingyu’s finger flicked beneath his sleeve. A black Go stone flew out, striking Wei Zijing squarely on the leg. Before the bully could react, his leg dropped back to the ground, followed by a sharp sting of pain.
He glared over, teeth clenched. “You!”
He saw it was the wealthy young master from the city. Pei Qingyu’s gaze drifted over him dismissively. Though his face was pale from illness and his frame appeared frail, his aura was not inferior in the slightest; he looked at Wei Zijing as if he were a dead fish.
Wei Zijing flew into a rage and moved to strike.
Just as his hand rose, Yu Tingzheng snapped out of his daze and let out a loud cry. He lunged forward, pushing Wei Zijing away to shield Pei Qingyu.
“You, you are not allowed to bully Yu’er!”
Wei Zijing stumbled back from the shove, nearly tumbling down the wooden steps. Infuriated, he threw a punch. Yu Tingzheng wasn’t hit; Pei Qingyu yanked him out of the way with one hand and caught Wei Zijing’s wrist with the other.
Their eyes clashed with sparks of fury. Moments later, they moved into the courtyard and began to fight.
“Yu’er, Yu’er!” Yu Tingzheng was terrified. He wanted to go over but feared distracting Pei Qingyu. His face turned pale as he stood among the crowd of spectating students, murmuring Pei Qingyu’s name in distress.
Though Pei Qingyu was sickly, his parents had hired a personal guard to teach him martial arts over the years to strengthen his body. He wasn’t a master, but he had more than enough skill to handle a bratty teenager.
Wei Zijing, who had practiced martial arts for years and dreamed of being a great general, found himself unable to defeat a “weak” scholar. He was so frustrated he felt like he was about to spit blood.